Coming Home to an Old Life
by Tenarus
Summary: Logan and Jean come home after 10 years away.
1. The Past 10 Years

_Disclaimer: They ain't mine, just playin' with 'em.  Sorry, to those who do own 'em. =/_

Chapter 1 

The moon shone dimly though cloud-covered sky over the small, roomy cabin as snow fell in wispy tendrils from the grey November sky.  Inside, a fire was lit and burning, it's embers glowing against the wooden grains of the wall.  Warmth wafted through the living room, comforting the inhabitants as they lay on their couch, huddled together under an old patchwork quilt.  From underneath the protective barrier flowed wisps of red hair, splaying over the arm of the couch and tumbling halfway down the side as it's owner pulled the old quilt down to the skin of her exposed collar and snuggled against the comfort of a man's strong, broad chest.

Her eyes drifted up to meet his as a smile formed on her finely shaped lips.  He gazed down at her lovingly and shared her smile.  For uncounted moments, they laid in each other's arms, content both from their physical bonding and from merely being close to one another.  Their life had not been an easy one; it had been bought with a high price, born out of supposed tragedy.  They were mutants, X-men from Xavier's School for Gifted Children and they had sacrificed themselves to save their friends and colleagues.  She was a telepath and he was a walking weapon.  When they had gone to the lake to rescue Professor Xavier, the dam that held the waters at bay was fractured and broken.  She had stepped out of their jet, the only means of escape, with the intention of holding back the raging waters so those she loved could escape.  She hadn't heard him follow her.

Her concentration had nearly been broken by his strangled cry as she lifted the bay of the jet, which caused him to realize her intentions.  But her course was determined and she stayed it.  She told him it was something she had to do, that he had to go back.  He refused.  No one told the Wolverine what he could or could not do.

"I won't let your pride kill you, Logan," she had told him, steadfastness and gritty determination behind her stormy eyes.  "Get back on the jet.  Now."

He had seen then that there was no arguing with her, but what he also realized was that he loved her and was not about to abandon her to such a death.  He felt her mind reaching out to him, begging him to return to safety, but he smiled at her grimly and let his answer flow through his mind.  "I won't let you die alone, Jeannie.  I can't."  

Sighing, he shut his eyes and closed his mind from her reach.  He could feel and sense her despair over his choice, but her road remained unchanged, and he heard her turn from him.

Logan opened his eyes then and fixed them on her, watching mutely as she walked away from him and towards the waves of the loosened lake that rushed closer and closer to them.  He could smell the fear on her.  But as the waves threatened to overwhelm them, she stopped them cold, her mind the only barrier between them, their companions, and a watery grave.

Then something happened.  He saw her eyes light up like a raging fire burned behind them and the jet lifted and it's engines started.  His heard pounded again his chest as he watched her hold off the towering mass of water that would almost certainly end her life soon.  The thought of Jean dying so young angered him.  He felt his inner-animal beginning to stir.  He growled loudly and her mind slammed against his, screaming, wailing and pleading with him to live, even in the hopelessness of the situation.

He screamed her name and ran for her as her control over the waves shattered.  The next moments went by like a blur for Logan.  Shouting at the top of his lungs, he wrapped his arms around her waist and then positioned his body between her and the water.  Then the water hit him like a fifty-foot wide sledgehammer and he fought for all he was worth to hold on to her.

The torrential waves tossed and turned them, but Logan held on, gripping at Jean's body, hoping somehow to spare her life, no matter the pain it caused him.  It seemed to go on for an eternity, the rushing of the water, the pain of debris slamming against his body.  But when he thought he could no longer stand it, the current stilled.  He could feel Jean writhing against him in agony, her breath nearly spent and with one final exertion, he thrust her upward with all his might and then gasped a breath, drowning his lungs with water.  The burning agony of it all was the last thing that went through his mind as darkness fell.

The next thing he remembered was waking up next to Jean on the shore of the lake, his head huddled against her chest, her slim fingers running through his hair.  His lungs were on fire and his head was pounding so hard he could barely think, and as he had passed out once again, he had heard her voice whispering to him: "I'm so sorry, Logan...why?  Why did you do this?...why did you have to come to us and make me fall in love with you?...why didn't you just let me die?"  The sound of her crying was the last thing he heard as he fell into a deep, mending sleep.

Their lives started that day out of nothing, in the middle of the Canadian wilderness, penniless and shivering.  However, over the course of the next three years, it had turned into something so beautiful that words could not describe it.  They had claimed their share of happiness, and for a while, their lives had been blissful and unhindered, free to breathe, hope, dream, and love.

And when they thought greater happiness in life an impossibility, they were given an addition to their family of two, a daughter.  When she was born, they named her Charlotte.  The name was something that bore great meaning to the little girl's parents; to Logan and Jean, it was sacred, holy - key to memories they both cherished dearly.  Charlotte bore her name with pride.

She was a bright, vivacious girl with blonde hair so light that it was like snow against her lily skin.  Her jasper-green eyes were piercing in perception, but always there was joy behind them.  She was a very happy child.  Her parents loved her and they loved each other.  By the time she was three, she had shown a rudimentary ability to sense thoughts, but as her powers would likely not begin to develop for quite some time, it could never be determined just how clear they were.  She had also exhibited signs of enhanced senses of smell, sight, and hearing.  Although it was certain that she had inherited, at least in part, the abilities her parents had, it would be quite some time before they began to manifest in full.  Nonetheless, Jean had taken care to watch and observe Charlotte carefully.  

Jean often told her that if her grandfather could only see her, he would be so proud.  Charlotte was named after her grandfather, one she had never seen, but of whom she had heard so many lovely stories.  She dreamed of meeting him.  Charlotte loved her mother fiercely, but was utterly in love with her father.  Her mother told her often that before she came along, her daddy was wild and untamed, like the graceful, beautiful wolves she so loved to draw.  But Logan was wrapped firmly around her tiny fingers, and Charlotte knew it and took great advantage of it when the time was opportune, much to the chagrin of her equally doting, though somewhat more conservative mother.  Yet, her love of him was so complete that she would never push him more than he was willing, and she always respected his wishes.  Logan and Jean told the people of the town 15 miles from their cabin that she was perfect.  The townspeople believed them because it was true.  Charlotte was perfect.

Today had been her sixth birthday; she had built snowmen and made snow angels with the giddy glee of a child that does not know the evil that lurks in the world.  However, that evil had been growing in Jean's mind for some time.  In the days after Alkali Lake, she had felt the Professor's mind reaching out to her in a last desperate attempt to come to terms with his loss.  But she had resisted his calls, knowing in her heart that there would be a time some day in the future that she would re-open her connection with her mentor.  He was like a father to her, but she could not live life knowing he knew she was alive and that it was her choice not to return.  The time had now come.

Jean could never quite explain it, but when her powers had begun to change, she had felt herself changing with them.  The internal war with herself over Logan and Scott had faded as she had come to terms with her feelings for Logan.  Yes, she loved Scott, but more so now like a brother and a best friend.  Her love for Logan was different; it was like sunlight shining over a sunflower, feeding her heart and soul.  And when he had sacrificed himself along with her, saving her life in the process, she knew that it was time for her life to change directions.

As time wore by and she married Logan and settled down with him near a small town in Alberta, Canada, her powers began to grow and develop.  At times, she felt that if she had not had such a strong, unshakable foundation under her, that her new powers would run away with her, driving her into madness.  But Logan was always there with her, always steadfast, always loving and encouraging her.  His love and her determination had fought successfully together to wield complete control over her newly blossomed abilities, and Jean flourished.

Now that Charlotte was six, she knew that they had to face the reality of things once again.  Charlotte needed training that they could not provide in and of themselves.  She needed Professor Xavier's guidance, and she needed the stability of a home and a school where her rapidly developing mutations could be harnessed and nurtured, as Jean's own abilities had been.  

As they had celebrated their daughter's birthday, she had gone over all of her possible speeches to Logan, which were intended to convince him that going back was the best thing for them all.  But lying in his arms just now, so warm and secure, she could not find the words.  Her mind raced a million miles an hour.

"Tell me, Jeannie," Logan's deep voice said, startling her.  

She blushed.  "I'm sorry, it's just, I've been meaning to tell you something for the longest time now, well, ever since Charlotte turned five.  I mean, I've been putting it off, but I know it's the right thing for Lilli - for us."  Lilli was Charlotte's middle name, a name Jean used only in private with her daughter and husband.  "I think we should go back, Logan.  I think it's time."

Jean glanced at Logan; he was looking at her strangely, almost grinning.  "What?" she asked, smiling a little herself.

Logan ran a hand through her long, red hair and sighed.  "Well, I gotta be honest, Red, I was thinkin' the same thing.  Lilli's old enough for school now and I won't have her denied or exploited like I was.  Chuck's the only person I trust.  I think we should go back, too."

Jean laughed aloud and hugged him fiercely.  "Oh, thank you, Logan!" she said against his bare chest.  "You can't know how much this means to me."

"Oh, I think I do," he replied, his tone serious.  She lifted her head and looked at him as he brushed locks of her hair away from her eyes.  "But you know this ain't gonna be easy, don't ya?"

She nodded as a glint of sadness crossed her features.  "There will be a lot of explaining to do."

He gazed at her questioningly.  "Any regrets?"

Jean smiled whole heartedly and kissed Logan lightly, whispering against his lips, "No, no regrets – not about us.  It might take time for some, but I think everyone will understand that we had no choice, not really.  We were just...meant to be - like you say, lifemates."

"Soulmates."  He smiled at using her particular term for their relationship, but then it faded, and he caressed her cheek gently.  "I love you, Jeannie."

"I love you, too, baby," she said in return, love shining in her eyes.  Smiling softly, Jean laid her head on her husband's chest and took a deep, steady breath.  It felt sometimes as if her heart would burst for love of Logan.  She was always amazed at the depth and intensity of her feelings towards him.  Even after almost ten years together, eight of which they had been married, she still felt an overwhelming desire for him.  She laughed at the concept sometimes, thinking to herself that she was thirty-nine years old, had been married for eight years, and still lusted after her man like a newlywed.  It amazed her even more that it was no different for Logan.  She could still see his craving for her in his eyes, those sharp, perceptive eyes.  It was the kind of look she had seen as they sat by the fire, cuddled under the blanket holding each other.  They hadn't made love on the couch in three years.  But here they were.

Now they would leave the only home they had known as husband and wife and as parents, and return to the home they had known as Logan and Jean, two people who wanted, but could not have each other.  She wondered how Scott was doing, as she had done so often since that day at Alkali Lake, and if he had moved on with his life as she had hers.  She hoped against hope that he had, and that he would be able to see that she had made the right decision, both for herself and for him, as she knew in her heart of hearts that she had.  Time would tell.

And when the clock chimed in the arrival of midnight, sleep had fallen upon Jean and Logan, and they rested peacefully together until the morning came.  The next day, they packed their things and told Charlotte that it was finally time for her to meet her grandfather.  And as they stood outside their home, tears spilling down her cheek, Jean blew a kiss to the house and the life they would leave behind, watching as the flames devoured it and everything in it they could not take with them.  Yet ahead of them lay an uncertain road, and whether good or bad, they would travel it.  

Now looking to the backseat where Charlotte slept, her snowy blonde hair falling on her shoulders, Jean's heart found peace and as the road wore on underneath them, she knew that even though there would be rough patches, things would work out in the end.  She had faith.


	2. Arrival

Chapter 2 

Many hours had passed when Jean's eyes finally opened once again, though how many she did not know.  She glanced at the clock on the dashboard; it was three a.m.  She had been sleeping for four hours.  Yawning and stretching her arms above her head as best she could, Jean glanced over at Logan, whose eyes were still locked on the road ahead of him, not a trace of sleepiness to be found.  

He smiled when she laid her head back against the headrest.  "Feeling better, Sleeping Beauty?"

She grinned and nodded emphatically.  "Mmm hmmm."

"We're about two hours away, now," he told her, laughing suddenly as a thought passed through his eyes.  "Lilli woke up 'bout an hour ago and asked me when we would be at Grandpa's house, when I told her, she just smiled, said, 'good' and then passed back out.  Funniest thing I ever saw."

Jean laughed aloud.  It never ceased to amaze her how Charlotte could wake from so deep a slumber perfectly coherent, and then simply return to sleep as quickly as she had awakened.  "She's so excited about seeing Charles for the first time.  He'll be thrilled at her."  Suddenly a deep melancholy settled over Jean's heart.  Logan seemed to sense it, as he took one hand from the wheel and grasped her hand tightly.  She squeezed his hand hard, fighting back tears.

Logan sighed deeply, reading her thoughts.  "He'll understand, Jeannie," he said softly, his eyes glancing over and locking on hers.  His reassurance meant the world to Jean, and she could see the confidence residing in his dark eyes.  He believed the Professor would understand why they had to do what they did, so she let herself believe it, too.  "The others, though, I'm not so sure.  Especially Scott, he won't understand at first, but he will.  Hell, if I have to, I'll make him understand.  Don't you worry that pretty little head."  Logan smiled and returned his concentration to the road before him.

Taking a calming breath, Jean allowed her eyes to slip shut.  Logan was right, it did her no good to worry.  Her reasons were justified in her mind, the precious child sleeping softly in the backseat being physical proof.  Yet, she knew that it wouldn't be easy for them to accept her reasons for staying away so long, letting them believe that she and Logan had died that day at the Lake.  Hard times lay ahead, mentally and emotionally, but armed with her confidence in her family and in the unceasing, undying support of her husband, she would survive.  It would take time, but old wounds would heal, and the X-men would be stronger than ever.  Her mind at ease once again, Jean soon fell back to sleep.

The next time she woke was when Logan had called her name, telling her they were almost there.  The first sight she had seen when she looked out the windshield was the front gate of the School.  Her heart began racing with both excitement and nervousness.

"It'll be okay, Red," Logan said as he pulled the car to a stop at the gates.  He took Jean's hand again, raising it to his lips and kissing it firmly.  "I love you; we'll be alright.  Okay?"

Jean took a deep breath and exhaled, replying a breathy, "Yeah."

Logan opened his door and started to move to get out, but Jean held onto his hand tightly.  He looked at her questioningly, but the questions faded as he took in the unadulterated look of love on her face.  An immensely intense wave of feelings from Jean washed through his mind, her deep love for him sending a shiver through his spine.  It never ceased to amaze him how intimate it was when she loved him with her mind.  Under her praise and adoration, he almost blushed…almost.

"Logan, before you do anything, I just want to tell you something," Jean said softly.  "I love you more than I could ever say.  Words aren't adequate, but I know you felt in your mind all I wanted to say.  No matter what happens from here on out, my love for you will never change or diminish, not ever."

All Logan could do was nod as a lump formed in his throat.  Her outpourings of love always seemed to render him incapable of speech, but he knew he didn't have to say anything to her.  She could feel his love in her mind every bit as powerfully as he could hers.  For a moment, they simply stayed still, lost in each other's eyes.  Then Jean released his hand and he took his queue to step out of the car and approach the gate.

Without second thought, he stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out the key he had used many times before, though each previous time he had been coming back from another failed attempt to piece together his past.  This time, the only past he cared about was coming home with him.  It was quite strange for him to think that after fifteen years of relentless searching that even though he had begun to recall bits and pieces of his experiences in the lab, he had no desire to further investigate his history.  All that mattered to Logan were Jean and Charlotte.  After them, everything else was unimportant.

Taking one last deep breath, Logan stuck the key into the lock and turned it slightly to the left.  When he heard the lock click, he smiled.  Logan opened the gate then and motioned to Jean that all was in order, and he waited patiently for her as she gathered Charlotte into her arms and made her way to him.  She took his proffered hand without hesitation and they began to walk toward the mansion, acutely aware that this the moment they had both been dreading and anticipating for the past ten years.

They approached the door.  Logan quickly shuffled through his key ring to find the key the Professor had given him so many years ago.  "This is your key, Wolverine," he had said, handing Logan the small, silver key.  "All locks in this mansion are designed to open with it.  Only two other such keys exist.  Scott is the keeper of one and I hold the other.  I realize that you may have to come and go at times, but this mansion shall always be your home, Logan, and you will always be welcome in it."

Logan had taken the key hesitantly, sensing the enormity of the Professor's implicit trust.  He had looked at the distinguished man as he took the key, and Charles had smiled.  One thought only had run through Logan's thoughts at that moment: here was a man he would die for.  In the end, he had taken the key with a solemn nod and whispered thanks to Professor Xavier as he left the office and returned to his quarters.  He smiled when he had heard the Professor's equally meaningful reply.  "You are most welcome, Wolverine.  Most welcome."

And so, things had come full circle as Logan slipped the key into the lock and opened the door, entering the mansion for the first time in almost ten years.  Jean came in slowly behind him, quiet and reflective, gently brushing her fingers through Charlotte's hair and placing feather-light kisses upon her forehead.  They wandered from the foyer into the spacious living room, both standing still for a moment and gazing around them, taking in the sights they had nearly forgotten, like the Grandfather clock Jean had bought the Professor when he turned sixty-three.  It was still there - ticking just as regularly as it had been the day she bought it.  A tear slipped from her eye at the memory.

"I hadn't thought it would be such an object of tranquility," an elder, distinguished voice suddenly said, as they both watched in shock as the Professor wheeled around the corner toward them to face the old clock.  "But ever since that day, I have spent many hours before it, hearing the constancy of the ticking and realizing that perhaps somewhere out there, you both were still alive."  He paused and turned to them, a sudden smile brightening his features.  "I am so pleased to know that I was correct."

Logan merely stared at the Professor mutely, afraid that if he were to speak, he would lose what little control of himself was left.  Jean had no such luck.  She was clutching Charlotte to her, tears streaming down her beautiful face.  She took a shuddering breath.  "Oh, Charles, I'm so sorry!"

Professor Xavier merely smiled again and rolled his chair in front of her, tilting his head to inspect the child more closely.  "And who, may I ask, is this beautiful child?"

Jean sniffled, but managed to smile brightly, as she always did when there was talk of Charlotte.  "Professor," she said, holding Charlotte out slightly towards Charles, allowing him to take her gently into his arms.  "This is my daughter, our daughter, Logan's and mine.  Her name is…"

"Charlotte," Logan interjected, finishing her sentence having found his voice at last.  "Her name is Charlotte."

The Professor merely looked from Logan to Jean, astonishment on his face.  When the older man looked back to Logan, there were tears in his eyes.  "Charlotte, you say?  Such a wonderful name - a name befitting such a beautiful little girl."

"We named her after the most important person in our lives, aside from each other," Logan told the Professor, whose focus had returned to Charlotte.  "He was the man who guided and taught us.  His influence – made us better people.  There could have been no other name suitable for our daughter."

A tear fell from his gracefully aged face as Charles brushed a hand through the silky paleness of his namesake's hair.  "I am honored more than words could express," he said solemnly, his eyes glancing up and locking with both Jean and Logan's in turn.  "Thank you."

"No, Chuck, thank you," Logan replied, almost effortlessly reverting to his behavior around the Professor before things had taken such a turn at Alkali Lake.  His heart swelled with affection for the man in the wheelchair, seeming so frail, when really he was stronger than they could ever imagine.

Professor Xavier smiled again as Charlotte shifted in his arms, but did not wake.  He was quite taken by the child.  She was very beautiful; she looked just like her mother, except for her startlingly pale blonde hair.  He imagined if she were anything like her father, though, she would be quite a handful.  "I suppose you two will want to get settled," he said then suddenly, "since you'll be staying with us once again."  

The certainty in his voice was simple and plain.  He had heard Jean express their desire to return in his mind, her voice more clear than ever before, and he was amazed by the effortlessness with which she exerted her powers now.  It was obvious she had changed.  Yet, even though her abilities had evolved, in many ways, she was still the same old Jean as she had always been: dutiful, trustworthy, honest, and loving.  It had also been obvious to him how deeply her love ran for Logan.  He could not begin to guess at how Scott would accept them, but his own acceptance had been a foregone conclusion.  He loved Jean like a daughter.  Logan loved Jean more than life itself, and that feeling was obviously reciprocated fully.  They had a daughter together.  Though he wished they been open with him from the beginning, he could not deny that their separation from the school and from the X-men had been something necessary, especially for Jean.  No, he would not begrudge their love, even though he thought of Scott as his own son.  In time, Scott would come to terms with the situation, until then, he had to be calm and steady for all their sakes.  The next few days and weeks would be quite a trying time, indeed.

Smiling up at Jean again, he handed Charlotte back to her and then began to wheel towards the staircase.  He motioned them to follow.  "If you wish, you may stay in Logan's old quarters until proper housing can be arranged," he said as they all walked towards the stairs, stopping at the base of them.  "It will be a bit small, perhaps, but comfortable nonetheless."

Logan extended his hand to the Professor, who took it without question.  "Thank you, Professor, for everything.  And for my part, I'm sorry we stayed away so long.  I hope you aren't angry with us.  But if you are, and ya gotta be mad at somebody, blame me, not Jeannie."

Jean opened her mouth to respond, but the Professor cut him off.  "I harbor no resentment toward you, Logan, nor do I blame you or Jean for what transpired."  He was very sincere as he talked, and as he did, both Jean and Logan could feel the waves of peace, love, and acceptance from him enter their minds.  "Indeed," he continued, his voice inflecting a tone of thoughtfulness.  "It seems to me that it was an inevitability, perhaps even a blessing in disguise.  Jean's powers were changing.  I felt them.  They were unstable and potentially destructive.  That you found each other and were able to come to terms with your love for one another may well have been Jean's salvation.  I can't help but feel that had she remained here with us or had she in fact been taken by the Lake, things might have turned out quite differently."

His speech ended for a moment, and he took both Jean and Logan's hands in his own.  "If it is my blessing you seek, you have it," he said, looking to each of them, his sincerity shining in his eyes.  "If it is my support you need, you have that also.  I have the utmost trust and faith in you both."  He released their hands and smiled at them, Logan and Jean both smiling back at him like little children who were given the blessing of their most beloved parent.  "Now, I wish that you would both go upstairs and get some rest.  I will have someone fetch your luggage and vehicle in the morning and we can talk more then.  Until then, may I say that I am so happy that you have returned to us, both of you, and I shall look forward to introductions to that sweet little girl on the morrow."

Jean laughed lightly and brushed away the tears from her cheeks.  "Of course, Charles," she replied, her face more lively and beautiful than Logan had ever seen.  "She's been looking forward to meeting you for so long – she'll be thrilled."

Logan nodded in agreement as the Professor smiled once again.  "Very well, then, good night to you both and may you sleep well."  With a nod to them and after exchanges of goodnights, he began to wheel down the hallway towards his own quarters, a smile on his face and his heart lighter than it had been in many years.  'Yes,' he thought, laughing quietly.  'I shall sleep very well tonight.' 

Jean and Logan could not help but feel the same.  They were both very tired, but very happy to finally be home.  It was certain that hard times certainly lie ahead, especially the next few days, as everyone learned that they had returned, were married, and had a child together.  But they both believed that with the Professor's steadfast support and one other to lean on, they would make it.  After all, they were home now, and the future looked more promising than ever.

When they had finally arrived at Logan's quarters, Jean wasted no time putting Charlotte down in the middle of the spacious bed that the girl's father had slept in so many years ago.  Logan merely stood by and watched quietly as Jean undressed Charlotte and pulled her pajamas out of the bag of things she had thankfully remembered to bring with her.  Once Charlotte was settled, Jean and Logan laid quietly down beside their daughter, having only bothered to remove their shoes and socks.  Jean's eyes locked onto Logan's and she delighted in the happiness and contentment she saw there.  

"Night, Jeannie," he whispered over to her, proceeding to yawn rather loudly.

"Night, baby," she replied, reaching her arm over to touch his cheek.  

Logan smiled at her touch and his eyes slipped shut.  Soon, his breathing steadied and Jean knew that he was asleep.  She sighed happily, pulled the covers around Logan and Charlotte, and then covered herself, allowing her own eyes to close.  It was not long before sleep claimed her also, the last thought running through her mind that they were finally home.

_Some notes__:_

_First of all, I made a minor change or two in the first chapter due to rightly expressed concern over issues I failed to realize existed._

_Secondly, this second chapter was pre-written before the first posting, so it is in no way a response to reviews.  However, I must say Rachel's review was rather thought provoking, and should I get any further with this story, I would like to address those particular concerns even though the answers may not be sufficient in the eyes of some.  However, I write these stories for my own entertainment and satisfaction, and I do promise that any future explanations will meet my own expectations fully.  I respect the opinions of others, however, wholly negative feedback is never the most constructive way to seek the administration of change or explication.  Nonetheless, my thanks for honesty in any case.  Enjoy this chapter for what it is and for what may come later, and have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. _


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